


Take a Gamble

by bgoodg



Category: Veronica Mars (TV), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairing, M/M, Mutant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-02
Updated: 2011-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-14 08:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgoodg/pseuds/bgoodg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Remy's kicked out of New Orleans he decides to spend some time in California.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take a Gamble

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction and not written for profit. The characters mentioned belong to their respective creators and owners. No defamation is implied.

The first time he sees Remy, the auburn-haired boy picks his wallet. Remy eventually gives it back, with a laugh and a warning about showing too much cash. Much to everyone’s surprise, Logan laughs right back. It’s not till later that he finds two hundred dollars missing.

***

The next time Logan’s at a bonfire party, he’s separated from the action and well on his way to getting drunk. The thief settles next to him. Logan extends his bottle of Vodka over.

“No thanks. Remy got his own stuff.” The Cajun pulls out a metal flask, adorned with a ruby and emerald coat of arms.

“What’s that?” Logan’s fingers move over the polished stones.

“The sign of my family,” he states.

And even with an enormous amount of alcohol in his system Logan can detect the hurt.

“Families suck.” He throws back the clear bottle, draining it of liquid.

“Oui, especially fathers.”

Logan shuts his eyes, trying to concentrate on the burn at the back of his throat instead of the sting of tears behind his eyelids.

“We need more alcohol.” Logan doesn’t know who says it, but considering the lack of an accent it might be him.

Logan wakes up on his living room couch the next afternoon with only a box of cards and an empty pizza box to give him any clue to the missing hours.

Remy comes up to him at school the next day. “Ya know ya suck at cards when you’re drunk.” He flashes a stack of hundreds.

So that’s why his wallet feels lighter. “You took advantage of little ole me.” He bats his eyelashes and shuts the locker door.

“And Ah plan on doin’ it again.” He laughs, walking into his classroom.

“Logan, where’d you go last night?” Dick questions, the red rims around his eyes evidence of what he’d been doing. “Saw you leave with that new kid.”

Logan ignores him. “I want to do another poker night.”

“Cool. I’m in; so’s dickhead.” He hits his younger brother in the arm. “But we need at least four.”

Logan knows who used to be their fourth. “I’ll ask Remy.”

“Who?”

“The new kid.”

***

Remy’s inclusion in poker night promotes his induction into their little group. He sits with them at lunch, parks next to them and parties with them. All the superficial rituals that say you’re friends in high school.

But Remy and Logan find the most fun when betting with one another. On everything.

From simple things, like who can make it to school the fastest. Remy usually wins but Logan contends it’s because Remy is lighter on his motorcycle. Logan is king of making the teacher yell at him first. Dick jokes that the two of them are adrenaline junkies. Logan has time to contemplate this in Spanish 2. In Chem he asks Remy about it.

The Cajun has that crooked smile that looks like he’s smiling with a cigarette in his mouth. “It ain’t gambling,” Remy answers.

“And what would you call it?”

“It ain’t gambling if ya intend on winning.”

***

Two weeks later and Logan’s puking his guts out in one of his thirteen bathrooms.

“Told ya not to mix tequila with vodka.” The Cajun’s voice is like a cool washcloth to his forehead. Or maybe that’s because Remy is holding one against his forehead.

“You were the one who bet me.”

Instead of the sarcastic comment Logan’s expecting, he hears the sound of the shower faucet being turned on. Remy wraps one of Logan’s arms around his shoulders, picking him up with ease. Remy carries him from the floor to the three faucet shower.

“Get undressed.”

“So you’re like that?” Logan attempts to joke.

“You have no,” Logan can’t hear the rest as Remy leaves the bathroom. His shirt is already off and Logan has plenty of practice getting his pants off while drunk. But the socks prove to be cumbersome.

“Can’t do anything.” Remy comes into view, his long bangs sweeping into his eyes as he takes off Logan’s socks.

Logan attempts to stand and quickly falls toward the marble floor. Remy is there though and hoists him vertical again, manhandling them both into the shower. Remy’s still dressed in blue jeans and a deep green t-shirt while Logan is just in his boxers. Logan can’t help but notice the way the wet shirt sticks to Remy’s muscles.

“I hate being sick,” Logan mutters, because if he doesn’t return this situation to some normalcy it will quickly head into Showtime territory.

“You’re not sick, ya hung-over.”

“Hate that too.”

“Stop complainin’. Now if I leave you here will you not knock yourself unconscious?” Logan thinks about it for a moment. First to try and decipher Remy’s unique take on grammar and pronunciation and then to think about the question.

“Sit me down first.” Remy helps him sit down in the shower stall.

“Don’t die on me.” Remy steps out.

Logan closes his eyes. “You getting naked out there?” Not that Logan has been thinking about the Cajun naked. How those sun-kissed muscles would look stretched out over his bed. Or any flat surface.

“Ah’m getting ya toothbrush, ya pervert.” Remy opens the curtain, giving Logan the toothbrush and toothpaste. The green shirt is now MIA. “Ya feelin’ any better?”

Logan tilts his head, bringing his fingers up to Remy’s face. “What’s wrong with your eye?” Logan knows he’s drunk, but he usually only hallucinates with drugs.

“Merde.”

Logan doesn’t know the word but the connotation is clear. Remy disappears again, the open curtain letting in waves of cold air. Instead of closing it, Logan leans out the opening, watching as Remy searches for something on the ground. The Cajun finds the tiny contact, washes it off in the sink, then replaces it. When Remy turns around his eyes are brown instead of red and black. Remy looks like he’s waiting for a slap. Or belt. Logan’s seen the look in the mirror.

“I wanna go to bed.”

Relief floods Remy face as he walks over and turns off the water. “Ya not gonna be sick anymore?”

Logan wraps his arm around Remy’s shoulder. “Your grammar sucks.”

And with that insult they’re back to normal, Remy cursing under his breath in French and helping Logan to his room. They walk, well, Logan stumbles, down the hall until they get to his room. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispers as they enter the room. Dick and Beav had left at the first signs of wooziness.

Remy just smiles and deposits Logan on the bed. But Logan doesn’t let go, and they both collapse together. Remy’s laying over him with their faces inches apart. Logan is really glad he brushed his teeth.

“Logan-”

He shuts Remy up by licking a long line from the Cajun’s collarbone up to his neck. Remy’s breath hitches in his throat, caught somewhere between a protest and a moan. Logan smiles, rests his head on the pillow, and promptly falls asleep.

The next day there’s no talk of licking or weird eyes. Only Remy betting him that he can’t handle gin and scotch.

***

Logan likes pretty things. If there was one lesson his parents taught him that actually stuck, it was an appreciation for beautiful things. Things that sparkled or shined or went really fast and cost an unholy amount of money. So naturally this preference blends with who he wants to fuck.

Because Logan doesn’t do ugly.

***

“Fuck.” Dick flops unceremoniously into the seat next to Logan, a distinctly pissed off look on his face.

“What the hell is your problem?” As soon as his phone beeps though Logan goes back to reading and responding to Remy’s text message. Passing notes is so 90's.

“Remy.”

“You have a problem with him?” And Logan really didn’t mean for the tone to be so accusing.

“No, he’s cool,” Dick insists. “He’s just got the girls in a fit. Which personally I think is kind of weird.”

“Why?” Logan laughs at Remy’s text.

“Well he’s you know…”

“Pretty?” Beav finishes.

“Don’t be gay,” Dick replies.

“Don’t be homophobic,” Logan counters, smiling as he lays out the terms of the bet with Remy.

“What is it this time?” Dick questions.

“Seeing who gets kicked out of class first.” The five hundred dollars are his.

***

“If Mr. Corelli weren’t so drugged out on downers I would have kicked your ass,” Logan complains, handing over the money.

“Boohoo, rich boy.” The money disappears into one of his trench coat’s many pockets.

“Why exactly do you wear that thing? It’s spring. In California.”

Remy shrugs while putting away his books. Somehow Remy had gotten the locker right next to his. “Reminds me of home.”

Logan sees Dick approaching them. “But aren’t you from New Orleans?” A dark look crosses Remy’s face. It’s the one that always appears whenever family is mentioned. Logan imagines he has one of his own.

“What is your family like?” he questions. Because Remy already knows about his. The whole world will thanks to his fame hungry sister.

“Ya don’t wanna know about them.”

Logan drops his voice to a whisper in the crowded school hall. “Why’d you stay with me?”

Logan can sense the Cajun choosing which question to answer. “Come to mah place tonight?”

Dick interrupts them before he has a chance to say anything other than, “Yeah.”

***

Logan pulls up to the Neptune Grand, handing his keys to the valet. He’s been to the motel on several occasions, and heads straight for the elevator. Like most grand hotels there’s a watchman guarding the elevator.

“Key, sir?”

Logan gives his best annoyed rich boy look. “I’m a guest of Remy LeBeau. Room 615.”

The man raises an eyebrow but nods and lets him pass. Logan contemplates the look while waiting for the elevator; the look had definitely been the one that said, ‘I know you’re going to go have sex.’ Logan had been on the receiving end of that look many times, but usually he was going to go have sex.

Not that sex with Remy would be bad. In fact it would probably be really hot and sweaty and moan inducing.

“Gonna come in?”

Logan finds himself outside of Remy’s door, the Cajun leaning on the door frame.

“Move, loser.” Logan pushes past Remy. The room is upscale but Logan hadn’t expected less. It’s filled with several fine art pieces but otherwise looks like a teenage boy left to his own devices.

“Drink?”

“Beer.”

Remy grabs two from the fridge and hands one to Logan. He plops next to him on the couch, turning on the wide screen television.

“It’s nice here.”

Remy raises an eyebrow. “Compliments sound odd coming from ya mouth.”

Coming and mouth had just rolled off Remy’s lips, so Logan can’t be blamed for the moan that escapes his own lips. “Shut up, dickhead.” And that’s not making matters better.

“See, that’s the Logan Ah know and love.”

Logan doesn’t learn anything that night about ulterior motives or forgotten family. He does learn, though, that Remy’s accent gets thicker the more he drinks, and that being responsible and not driving drunk has its rewards. Like having an excuse to sleep in the same bed as your friend.

Your very straight male friend.

***

The first time they kiss Logan blames it on the twenty four pack they split. The second is Captain Morgan’s fault. Vodka, the third.

Logan begins to suspect he’s drinking too much.

***

It’s poker night. Logan folds and leaves the table to grab another drink. His concentration is shot to hell, as it usually is when Remy is around. In fact, Logan seems to be in a state of perpetual arousal whenever Remy is near. Which is almost all the time. Consequently, Logan is screwed. But not, and that’s his whole problem.

He hears Remy curse under his breath, and a chair scoot back. A second later a hard body is pressed against his back.

“Get rid of them.”

“And why would I want to do that, Remy?”

Logan gets cool fingers at his hips for a reply.

Using every underhanded trick he knows it takes Logan three hands to clear out Beav and Dick. The two brothers leave hurling insults and promises for revenge on their way out.

They’re naked by the time the brothers leave the driveway.

Logan wonders why they weren’t doing this from day one when Remy grabs his ass and brushes their cocks together.

“Merde.” Remy throws his head back, the muscles in his neck stretching in the soft light.

“Bed now.” Logan pulls them both onto the white comforter.

Logan wants to quit thinking and lose himself in the sensations of Remy’s fingers, tongue, and lips, but his damn brain won’t let him. “Mayday? What’s that mean?”

Remy lifts his head from Logan’s nipple. “Shit, as in,” the Cajun’s tongue snakes out. “Merde, dis boy talks too much.”

“Why don’t you make me shut up then.”

***

“Explain it to me again.”

Remy picks up another card. “Ah turn the card’s potential energy into kinetic energy which makes the card,” the Jack of Hearts explodes, “go boom.”

“And you can do this because...”

“Ah’m a mutant.”

“Oh.” Logan processes the information. It explains a lot. The eyes, secretive nature and aversion of his past. He doesn’t think it explains the incredible hotness though. “I’m a nympho.”

Remy raises an eyebrow. Logan decides he likes Remy with the demonic eyes.

“What?”

“You told me a secret so now I’m telling you one of mine. I’m a nympho.”

“’Fraid to say it, cher. But that ain’t much of a secret.”

***

Remy teaches Logan how to count cards and pick locks. He also informs Logan that his security is too lax and suggests ways to improve.

When Logan asks how he knows all this, Remy laughs and takes off his shirt.

Logan is suitably distracted.

***

Logan is searching his dresser drawers when Remy comes in. He’s stopped asking how the Cajun gets into his house. He remains silent as Logan dumps the contents onto the floor. They’re nowhere to be found. Logan finally turns to Remy to see the boy holding the object of his search.

“Give them to me.”

“No.” Remy closes his hands over the pills, a red light emits, and when Remy opens his hands there’s just ash.

Logan goes to punch him, expecting a block. But Remy doesn’t, and the hit lands squarely on his jaw. The Cajun takes a step back but doesn’t react any other way.

“Damnit, Remy.” Logan’s hands go to the still red spot on Remy’s jaw. “You asshole, why didn’t you block me?”

Remy’s hands cover Logan’s. “Ya need to get ya anger out. If this is the way ya gonna do it, then fine.” Logan feels his heart constrict in his chest. “But you ain’t gonna do it with them damn pills.”

“Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?” Logan goes to move but Remy’s grip remains strong.

“Yeah, cause de crutches of alcohol, drugs and humor are workin’ so well.” Logan shoves Remy away, but the Cajun’s stronger than he looks and keeps Logan next to him. “Ya can’t keep livin’ like this, cher.”

“Fuck you.”

The kiss is unexpected, but is certainly welcome. Their lips meet with bruising intensity, Remy trying to devour him with lips and tongue.

Remy pushes Logan onto the bed, keeping their hands locked together. The Cajun lines their bodies up, setting a slow torturous motion. The sensation is too intense for Logan and he has to close his eyes to keep it together. Leaning his weight on the arm connected with Logan, Remy uses his free hand to move down Logan’s body, tracing the lines of muscle.

"Remy please," Logan doesn't know what he's asking for, but Remy does.

"Lube?"

Logan's fingers search for the container under the mattress. Remy takes it from his shaking hand, flips open the top and squirts some onto his fingers.

"Open your eyes, cher."

Logan does as he feels Remy's tongue and mouth mark a trail down his stomach. Strong hands knead his thighs as Remy first licks patches of stomach then blows cool air, raising goose bumps on patches of skin. And when Logan begins to think he has the rhythm worked out, Remy switches to nibbling where Logan's thigh melds into his pelvis. By the time Remy enters the first finger he's on to lightly licking Logan's cock.

"More," Logan demands, his voice raw and hungry.

And of course Logan would be pushy as a bottom

"Fuck me now."

Remy closes his eyes and bites his lips but doesn’t make any move to get the show going.

Logan's hand pulls Remy's face inches from his own. With their noses touching and their eyes locked Logan answers. "Fuck me now or I'm going to kick your ass."

"Such endearments." They share a bruising wet kiss before Remy pulls back. And then he's pushing in and all is right in the world.

Logan's legs find themselves around Remy, urging him closer and deeper. And if anyone had ever told Logan he'd enjoy, really really enjoy, getting fucked by a guy, well, he probably would have punched them. But consider Logan a believer. Because he planned on doing this as often as humanly possible. And then Remy hits the sweet spot and Logan is coming; minutes later Remy follows him. The Cajun collapses on him, mumbling incoherent French into his neck.

Logan's ready to fall asleep but Remy is heavier than he looks. Luckily the Cajun understands Logan's inarticulate grunts and moves over. Logan's exhausted, but he knows this is his last chance. If he stays, this'll be more than just a buddy fuck. They can't turn back.

Logan moves his head to Remy's shoulder and falls asleep.

***

"Take them off."

Remy turns around with raised eyebrows. "Sure ya want me to cook naked?" Remy continues stirring the boiling pot.

Logan doesn't know what Remy's cooking but it doesn't contain crab and so far everything the Cajun's cooked has been delicious, so Logan just goes with the flow. "Although I certainly won't protest you being naked, I was talking about your contacts."

There's that crooked smile again. "’Kay." Remy returns with the brown lenses out, his natural red and black showing.

***

Logan can't help turning around and waving goodbye to Veronica. Duncan's glaring at him through the school bus window and Veronica looks annoyed but it had to be done. Logan realizes Veronica didn't understand all, or probably any, of what he said; but Logan needed to say it and he couldn't just reveal his and Remy's relationship. He needed to say goodbye to Veronica. Because when he went to sleep at night instead of blonde and blue he saw red and black.

Logan unlocks his car door and slips inside.

"Bonjour, cher."

Logan jumps in his seat as Remy's face appears in his rearview mirror. "You know heart attacks run in my family."

"Just make sure I'm your primary beneficiary." Remy settles himself into the passenger seat. "So where we going today?"

"I was thinking a nude beach."

The Cajun laughs. "Didn't know there were any here."

"It just so happens I own a very secluded piece of land right next to the ocean."

"Let's go, cher."

Logan revs up the engine and blasts the stereo. He can just barely hear Remy say, "I got a bet for ya." Remy's hand drifts dangerously close to Logan's cock. "Bet I can make you come before we get to your house."

Logan doesn't care if he loses this one.

***

Logan is bored. He's beaten every game on all three consoles he owns and is on to flinging cards into an empty crystal vase. Logan searches for his cell phone, finding it under the couch. He scrolls through the list of numbers, momentarily stopping at Dick and Beav's number. But the last time he'd been at the Casablanca's residence, their step mom had been giving him weird vibes.

Logan can't remember the last time he was bored. Especially since Remy came to live in Neptune. Speaking of the horny Cajun.

Remy doesn't answer his cell phone, but on the fifth ring the hotel phone is picked up.

"Wha?"

"Remy?"

"Logan? Et ain't Monday yet es it?"

"No, it's Saturday." Logan is already setting the house alarm and heading for his rental car. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin’ cher, Remy jus’ a little tired."

Logan can barely understand Remy through the wheezing and stuffy nose. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Don't worry."

But Logan is focusing on the road. He makes it in seven but the elevator takes a while. Logan produces the hotel key Remy gave him. He finds Remy naked in bed, which is usually right where Logan wants him.

"Told ya Ah'm fine." Remy tries to sit up but finds Earth's gravity has intensified and all he can do is raise his hand.

Logan places the back of his hand on Remy's forehead. "You're burning up."

"So ya think I'm hot," Remy tries to joke.

Logan runs through what he's supposed to do. He remembers getting really sick when he was little, but his mom had been at a spa and his dad on a promotional tour. He remembers the nanny fussing over him but most is lost in a haze of fever. Logan reaches for the phone, realizing too late that he has no one to call.

***

The internet is a wonderful substitute for family, and Logan takes full advantage of his broadband connection. He's sitting at the computer in his room, casting hesitant glances at Remy who's curled under three layers of blankets. The Cajun had insisted no doctors: they couldn't risk the doctor finding out about his mutation.

Logan prints out DoctorMD's instructions and goes to his medicine cabinet to see if he has anything weaker than Vicodin.

***

"Logan, wake up cher.”

Logan opens one eye to see Remy smiling at him from his bed. Logan's laying on his chair, his legs flung over the sides.

Remy smiles as Logan uncurls himslef from the uncomfortable position. "Come here." He beckons Logan with his hand.

Logan ignores him, placing a thermometer under his tongue. "Not what Ah want in mah mouth, cher."

Again Logan ignores him, waiting for the device to beep. He pulls out the thermometer, the relief evident on his face. "Don't scare me like that." Logan lands on the bed, his arm splayed over Remy's chest and his face snuggled into the crook of Remy’s neck. "Stupid dumbass, getting sick on me."

"Ya always say the sweetest things."

"Stay with me." And because it's Remy, Logan doesn't need to explain. Doesn't need to explain the hurt and how fucking lonely he is.

Remy curls into Logan's touch. "Of course."

***

Logan never tires of seeing Remy blow things up. The carefully maintained backyard is full of burnt spots and the trees will never recover.

Remy tosses another charged card across the backyard. It lands in the trees, taking off another chunk of bark.

"You're incredible," Logan whispers, his arms encircling Remy from behind. Their fingers lock together.

"Remy don't think ya gardener will think the same."

"Well, he isn't nearly as good looking as me so his opinion doesn't count."

Remy laughs, letting his head fall back onto Logan's shoulder. "Wanna go upset the maid?"

***

Logan wonders if their Future Business Leaders of America teacher would get suspicious if he bought stock in Astroglide. The company had to be making a fortune off of him alone. Speaking of sex.

 **Megalomaniac**  
What should we do tonight? There's a party up north.

 **RaginCajun504**  
I’m thinkin of somethin a little more private.

Logan looks up to see Veronica and Duncan enter. He grabs his stuff and moves over so they can sit together.

 **Megalomaniac**  
Would these plans have anything to do with blindfolds?

 **RaginCajun504**  
LoL

 **Megalomaniac**  
So come on, what's the plan?

It takes a moment for Remy to respond, during which Logan only pays partial attention to class.

 **RaginCajun504**  
I wanna suck your cock.

Logan has to close his eyes and force his breathing back into a regular pattern. He sees the look Duncan shoots him and glares back.

 **Megalomaniac**  
In class Remy.

 **RaginCajun504**  
Gonna fall to my knees

Logan can feel someone staring at him and looks up.

"What?" Duncan is giving him a confused look and Logan immediately tosses out an insult. He can't remember exactly what it was but it must have been a good one because the next thing Logan feels is Duncan's fist connecting with his jaw.

***

"I hate him too," Logan whispers. And how the hell does Duncan not know that? Logan certainly wasn't proclaiming his father's innocence; he hadn't even been to see the bastard.

And the look Duncan gives him makes Logan want to yell and fuck and throw and drink himself into oblivion.

"The principal’s waiting for you."

Duncan leaves without a word.

The nurse sits down and begins examining his hands, just a couple of scratches. His father's lightest beatings did worse.

It takes several seconds for Logan to realize the fire alarm's ringing. The nurse left, leaving Logan alone. He doesn't need AP English to get the symbolism.

His head is in his lap when Logan feels lanky arms encircling him. Remy doesn't say anything; he doesn't have to.

They're at home and in their bedroom before Logan asks. "You pulled the fire alarm?"

A slow smile spreads across the Cajun's face. "You just lay down, cher. Remy take care of ya."

Logan feels the tension leave his body as Remy strips him. Remy's taking his time, casually revealing new skin and exploring it with his lip and tongue. "No one’s ever pulled a fire alarm for me."

Remy looks up from removing his shoes and socks to quirk an eyebrow. He stands, pushing Logan back onto the bed. "You are one strange man, cher." The kiss lasts forever and Logan realizes that they've never just kissed. It's always been a rush to the finish. But this slow kissing and exploration is something Logan can get addicted to. Easily.

"Cher..."

"Yeah?"

"Let me do something."

Logan nods his head ‘yes’ - there was nothing Remy had done that Logan hadn't found insanely pleasurable.

Remy moves off Logan, crossing the room to dig in his trench coat. He comes back to the bed with two black silk scarves. Logan almost comes at the promise the pieces of material hold. Remy ties Logan's hands to the slotted headboard.

Remy begins a slow journey from Logan's wrists down to his neck, biting the skin to a deep red then licking the bruised skin. Logan wants to make a smart remark about visible bruises but then Remy might stop and Logan would have to hurt someone.

His neck is explored thoroughly with his collarbone receiving lavish attention. Remy does wonderful things to his nipples, biting them then licking and rubbing. Logan wants to reach out and touch all that tan skin, but the scarves restrict his movements, so Logan contents himself with moaning and whispering Remy's name. Eventually Remy works down to his stomach, licking the smooth lines of his abdominal muscles.

"Remy, please." And Logan never begs. Orders and demands, yes, but never begs.

The Cajun smiles, licking down to Logan's pelvic bone. Logan feels like he’s going to explode when Remy finally relents, grabbing one of the million of bottles of lube around the house. Remy straddles Logan's thighs, squirting lube onto his fingers. "Merde, Logan, you're gorgeous."

Normally Logan would have scoffed at the compliment but the look in Remy's eyes makes Logan want to believe so fucking bad.

Remy places one hand on Logan's chest for stability, the other hand reaching downward.

"Oh God." Logan can't believe this is actually happening. It's like one of his best wet dreams but in luminous Technicolor and surround sound.

Remy bites his lips in concentration when he adds a second finger. His chest heaves with each labored breath. Remy settles himself over Logan, setting both hands on Logan's chest.

Logan's hands clench and his toes curl as Remy settles himself onto Logan's cock. "Yes, yes, yes." Logan suddenly can't breathe as Remy glides down completely. Their eyes remain locked together as he pushes up and down, the pace slow and leisurely. Remy leans on his elbows, letting their mouths connect.

“It’s not your fault.” It’s whispered so softly Logan isn’t sure the words are actually spoken. “You couldn’t have known.” Logan wants to look away from the certainty and loyalty embedded in Remy’s eyes, but if Remy’s willing to share this much with him then the least Logan can do is accept it. “You’re not him.”

Logan’s eyes finally close as his climax overtakes his body. He’s pulling at the restraints, desperate to touch Remy. The Cajun takes notice, quickly untying Logan’s hands which immediately find their way to Remy’s pelvic bones, speeding up the tempo. Logan moves one hand to Remy’s cock, stroking him with the same beat he’s fucking him to.

“Logan.” His name sounds like a holy prayer coming from Remy’s sinful lips. Remy closes his eyes and comes whispering Logan’s name. He barely manages to lift himself off and land alongside Logan on the bed.

When Logan turns his face, the absolute admiration and heat in Remy’s eyes make Logan lose what little breath he has left.

Remy uses one of their shirts to clean them up; he’d better start paying the maid more. Logan finds the Cajun’s hands, bringing an arm around him. He wants to say something, tell Remy how much he’s come to care for him. But Logan’s a guy and feelings aren’t his forte. So instead he brings Remy’s hand to his lips, brushing the knuckles against his mouth.

Remy understands.

***

“Remy.”

“What?”

Book bags are thrown into the corner, forgotten until Monday. Clothes fly at an even faster rate as a whole day of not touching each other has taken its toll on the boys.

“Why’d you steal my wallet?”

Remy pauses in his undressing of Logan. ”What?”

“The first time we meet, you stole my wallet.”

“So?” he questions, throwing off Logan’s shirt.

“Why?”

Remy stops, his hands on Logan’s hips like they belong there. “I’d been at school for a week and ya didn’t notice me.”

“So you stole my wallet?”

“It worked.”

“It was a gamble.”

“But Ah won.” Remy falls to his knees, smiling impishly up at Logan. “Ah won big time.”

***

“Where were you on the 16th?”

Logan turns around, wrapping the white towel around his neck. “Sorry Veronica, don’t think I can fit you in today. Maybe next week.”

She’s undeterred, her eyes taking everything in. And there’s a lot to take in. The rumpled sheets, pillows thrown to the floor, and how the hell did his pants end up on the lamp? “So what girl with low self esteem was it this time?” Veronica asks.

Logan has the insult on the tip of his tongue when he hears, “Bonjour Veronica.”

The look on her face is priceless. He’s never seen Veronica quite so, well, it’s hard to explain. It’s a mixture between shocked and flabbergasted. She’s shockgasted. “Veronica wants to know where we were on the 16th.”

Remy crosses his arms over his bare chest, the towel hanging low enough to reveal pelvic bone. Logan thinks this should be Remy’s senior picture. “Ah think that was the night of the party.”

Oh yeah. Logan searches through the cluttered desktop to come up with a coral colored flyer. Damn, how gay is he? He hands it to Veronica, who’s managed to close her mouth.

She takes the paper. “Weevil received a phone call from one of the phone lines in this house on that night.”

Logan looks to Remy, who shrugs. “The PCHers crashed the party. Then Sheriff Dumbass took the kegs.”

To her credit Veronica keeps her eyes locked onto their faces. Logan doesn’t do as well and shamelessly eyes Remy’s exposed chest as the Cajun goes over who was at the party.

“Okay, well.” For once Veronica seems without a snappy comeback. “Okay, so I’m just going to let myself out.”

“Come back soon, mademoiselle.”

Veronica turns around as if she’s just taken the red pill and come out the rabbit hole. “Oh, bye.”

Logan waits for Veronica to get downstairs before tackling the wet and naked Remy. “You’re a bastard.”

“Don’t know what ya mean, cher.”

“If you didn’t know she was here you wouldn’t have put your contacts in.”

Remy knows he’s been caught and begins his repentance by silencing Logan with a kiss.

***

It’s one of those rare nights that Logan and Remy stay at home. It’s a Monday, so football is on with tortilla chips and three different kinds of pre-made dip. It’s all very manly and heterosexual, except for the fact that Remy’s feet are splayed across Logan’s lap.

“Bet ya $500 they score again before halftime.”

Logan looks at the game clock. Two fifteen left to go but the defense has been weak all night. “No deal.” Logan takes another drink of his beer.

Remy’s lips pout.

“I’ll bet something besides money.”

Remy’s eyes light up and he motions for Logan to continue.

“If I win then you have to tell me about your family.”

Remy’s face goes blank. Logan’s learned that Remy never really looks sad or disappointed. Anything other than anger or lust automatically gets transferred to blank on his face. “Ya really wanna know?”

“Yeah.” And how could he not? He knows how Remy sounds when he comes, his favorite movie, the foods he likes and that he yells at the television.

Besides, Logan had been doing some research.

It’s not like he’s going to get relationship advice from his parents. He tried Queer as Folk DVDs first, but he found himself too distracted by the sex to learn anything. Then he’d heard some girl in his Chemistry class gushing over how cute Clark and Lex were together. Clex stories had proved quite helpful. The most important thing he’d learned, besides that flannel could be sexy, was that secrets destroyed a relationship.

“I want to know.” And even though Logan has to fight every nerve in his body not to run away or make a joke, he honestly does.

Remy slumps further into the couch. “Ah grew up on de streets of New Orleans, thievin’ to get by. Ah picked the wallet of the wrong man, Jean-Luc LeBeau.” Remy falls into silence for a couple of seconds. “He’s thee leader of thee Thieves’ Guild. And before ya ask, it’s exactly what it sounds like: a bunch of people who make a living stealing things. He adopted me when Ah was eight. Ah lived and worked with him until a couple of months ago. Ah was out on a job that went wrong: one of the rival gangs saw me use my powers. They turned me into some agency interested in mutants. Jean-Luc came to me and said Ah had to leave. Said Ah was too much of a risk.”

“Remy, I’m-”

“It’s all right, cher. Jean-Luc gave me a nice little consolation prize to go away with.” Remy moves so that he’s on Logan’s lap, his hands resting on the other’s chest. “And besides, Ah got you.”

***

Logan knows it had to happen eventually. He’s known as a playboy, and people had to notice when he stopped sleeping around.

The only time Logan wasn’t a playboy was when he was dating someone. Because of all the horrible things someone could say about Logan, and Logan’s aware there are a lot of them, he certainly wasn’t a cheater. So naturally, people began assuming he was seeing someone.

“I hope the sex was worth it.”

Logan shuts his locker door to find his very own pixie glaring at him. “Not for the first time Veronica I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s intrigued though, and waits for Veronica to elaborate.

“Candy Smith was just regaling us all with tales of your wild exploits.”

“Candy Smith? Isn’t that an apple?”

“Remy didn’t find it so funny.”

The smirk disappears.

“Actually, he seemed a little pissed off. After Candy told us of your weekend in the hot tub Remy asked to go to the bathroom and never came back.”

“Shit.” Logan’s halfway down the hall when the principal stops him.

“Where do you think you’re going, Mr. Echolls?”

“To a land of higher learning.” He really needs to get to Remy.

“Get to class.”

“Wahoo, Mr. Sanderson! Has this paint been tested for lead, because astonishingly one in six schools...”

“Ms. Mars,” the principal turns to calm down the typhoon that is Veronica.

With a silent thanks Logan slips out the doors.

***

Logan pulls up alongside Remy’s motorcycle. He barely remembers to turn off the car before running into the house. “Remy?” He’s going up the stairs when he spots a mess of auburn hair by the pool. Remy’s laying down with his feet in the water. He only has on a pair of blue swim trunks, and if Candy hookerhoe Apple screws this up, Logan might have to reevaluate his “no hitting girls” policy. He’s out of breath by the time he opens the patio doors.

Remy lifts his head to look at Logan, taking out the white earbuds.

“I didn’t do anything with her. I swear.” Logan wrings his hands, desperately wishing for a drink. “I mean, I know we never officially said we were going out. But I figured you moving in meant something and-”

“Logan.” Remy smirks. “Sit down before ya pass out.”

Logan smiles back and falls into an undignified lump next to Remy. “I swear I didn’t do anything with her.”

“Who? De apple girl? Ah know that. She was tryin’ to impress some of the cheerleaders. You ain’t like that, cher.”

Logan breathes for the first time since Veronica cornered him at school. With all the worry-fueled adrenaline leaving his body, Logan has an overwhelming desire just to lie down. He settles himself on the cool pavement with his head on Remy’s stomach.

“So ya drove all de way from school just to tell me that?”

“Yeah,” Logan admits, and this is so much better than school.

“Guess it was natural for rumors to start up. Have to say Ah’m surprised no one’s found out about us.”

“Yeah. Although Veronica did by accident so that kind of takes out the school’s main sleuth. I do wonder if she told Duncan though.”

“Ya want him to know?”

“Yeah, actually.” Logan does. He and Duncan had been through a lot together and this was something he wanted to share with him.

“Maybe de two of you can meet this weekend.”

“Maybe.”

Remy’s hand begans rubbing Logan’s head. So much better than school.

***

“How’d Duncan take it?” Remy turns off the television and begins walking towards Logan.

“Surprisingly well. Veronica hadn’t told him but Duncan said he’d had his suspicions.”

“So who’s next on de comin’ out list?” Remy pulls Logan between his thighs.

“Well Dick and Beav have to be blind not to know about us.” It wasn’t like they hadn’t caught Logan and Remy making out a million times.

“We should have a party, cher.”

“I don’t-” But then their lips meet and words are useless.

***

The gym is decorated in the typical corny high school fashion, but with the lights dimmed down it’s not all that bad. Dick is busy trying to get busy with several cheerleaders while Beav’s sulking in the corner somewhere. But Logan is more concerned with Jackie. She’s flirting and dancing with anything with a pulse and possible access to liquor. It’s obvious she’s on something, but at least if she’s dancing with him then no one will be able to take advantage of her.

Besides, it gives him time to think.

Logan really wants to tell Remy he loves him. Needs to tell him. He almost has a couple of times. But then he remembers the first time he’d ever told Lilly he loved her. A playful smile and a kiss on the lips was all he got in return. Veronica’s reaction hadn’t been better, with her ‘that’s nice’ look, either. He’s scared to death that Remy will react the same way. Or that he’ll freak and leave Logan. Anything short of Remy returning the sentiment and then them having sex isn’t anything Logan wants to contemplate.

“What are you doing?”

It takes a second for Logan to realize Veronica wants to harass Jackie and not him. He moves over to Duncan.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“She’s on something,” Logan says. “See if someone can take her home.”

“Yeah.”

“Just not Dick.”

Duncan gives him a ‘well duh’ look.

“Bonjour, everyone.” Remy comes up behind Logan, placing a light hand on his back.

“Hey Remy.”

“Duncan, your lady looks very nice tonight.”

They all look over to see Veronica and Jackie yelling at one another.

“I gotta go help her.” Duncan smiles before moving over to his date.

“And people wonder why Ah’m gay,” Remy whispers into Logan’s ear.

“I love you.”

Remy laughs and smiles at the same time. “Ah love you too.” Remy says it like he’s felt it all along and was just waiting for Logan’s slow ass to get with the program. “Come on, let’s blow this joint.”

Logan doesn’t know where they’re going. Hell, he doesn’t know how they got here. But he knows Remy loves him.

He's willing to bet on that.


End file.
